Learning
by Eternal Winters
Summary: When someone is an assassin, he or she must remember what they stand for. Warnings: contains fancharacters and hinted killing.


_Author's Note: Hello! No, I haven't forgotten about my TF2 fic. I'm just working out a perspective-shift currently, and the chapter will be up soon. Here's a one-shot Assassin's Creed one, though, about my two fancharacters Amerigo Fabbri and Giuliana Fabbri. You can probably tell I love making fancharacters._

_Here are notes on the Italian used in order of appearance: _Excuse me/pardon, a man, I hope the lesson I learned from your death was enough to earn both your and my repentance. Rest in peace.

_Hope you enjoy! Reviews, comments, etc. always welcome._

Amerigo sat silently, letting his legs dangle off the edge of the rooftop. Sighing contently, Giuliana sat down beside her brother to watch the horizon. This was a common end-of-day ritual for the twins, watching the sunset from the rooftops, and it was always something the two could look forward to after a busy day completing contracts for the Medici family. The views in Florence were never as beautiful as the ones in the Tuscan countryside, her brother would always remark, but to Giuliana, any sunset was just as suitable for relaxation as the next. The way the colors splayed out from the sun, round and vibrant like an orange florin, accentuated beautifully the beiges and rusts of the common Florentine skyline.

Today, however, Giuliana seemed more particular to silence, and Amerigo appeared troubled. As much as he enjoyed wordlessly watching the sun slip away, the events of the day had disturbed him a great deal. He stiffened his posture a little and cleared his throat. He had to ask her.

"Why did you do it?"

His sister was caught unaware by his question and gave Amerigo a sidelong glance, tinged with incredulity. A few minutes passed, awkwardly creeping by as Amerigo's eyes bore into his sister, before Giuliana replied.

"I didn't want to cause trouble."

"Trouble. Trouble?"

"Yes. Trouble."

"What do you call that dead man's mangled body?"

"A job finished."

"And the crowd of people?"

"Distractions for the guards."

"And our faces on posters on every street-level wall in—"

"Look. I don't like where this is going—"

"Of course you don't, Giuliana."

Amerigo sighed deeply and turned away from his sister with arms crossed and brows furrowed. He had never felt so betrayed, so distraught ever since the pair had taken up the work of the Florentine assassins two years ago. The day's last contract started out so simple. There was a travelling merchant in the San Giovanni district who conned many out of their money, only to be siphoning most of his profits to Pazzi family supporters. The Pazzi had attempted to take over Florence by murdering the leader of the Medici family, but were stopped by a fellow assassin. This had supposedly been the finishing blow to their conspiracy, but a few stragglers remained, as evidenced by the many contracts that Lorenzo d'Medici sent out to the three assassins that worked in Florence. Shaking his head, Amerigo stood up and faced his sister, "You didn't even give him his final rites."

Giuliana jumped to her feet and whipped her body around to face Amerigo, eyes glowing with rage. The sun blazed behind her, orange completely overtaking the blue of the sky.

"He didn't deserve his final rites!"

"Father taught us otherwise."

"A man as despicable, as horrible as him doesn't deserve them!"

"Is it for you to judge?"

"Judge? You heard him! You heard what he said!"

"Yes. Yes I did," Amerigo looked to the ground for a moment, chewing slightly on his lower lip in thought. At first, he remembered how he had asked the merchant to repent before attacking him, and how the man had not only refused, but also insulted both Amerigo's family, and the Order. Anger took him for a moment, but the sight of the merchant's body—after Giuliana had finally stopped her savage stabbing of his already lifeless body—flashed through his mind's eye. He shivered, set his jaw, and locked eyes with his sister. Their gazes, the former calm, the latter burning with silent fury, would not be broken. Amerigo began, slowly as he always did, to speak. The sun was almost entirely hidden behind the horizon, but the sky was streaked with orange on a purple-blue backdrop, as if the sunlight were trying to hold onto the day.

"But think for a moment. Who did you kill?"

"A Templar agent!"

"_Scusi_?"

"What else would he be? He was working with the same men who murdered our family—"

"He was a man, Giuliana. _Un uomo_."

"So? What difference does that make?"

"He was someone's son, just as you were someone's daughter."

"You're being too sensitive."

"How is valuing human life sensitive? He was like us."

"No, Amerigo! He was a murderer! He worked for murderers! How do I respect a man who has taken so much from everyone?"

"Then what did you kill today? What did you _mutilate _today?"

"I slayed a _demon_ in the Piazza della Signoria! He was not _un uomo_ anymore!" Giuliana shouted with a great flourish of her arms, motioning in the direction of the San Giovanni district. Amerigo did not move, breathe, or blink in her frenzy, and his sister drew in a frustrated breath and turned away.

Amerigo took a hesitant step closer to his sister. When she didn't move at the sound of his footsteps, he closed the gap between him in a few, quick strides with confidence. Giuliana turned to face him, her eyes faintly glistening. Wavering at first, but then reassured by her compliance, Amerigo swept his sister up into a tight hug. The sun had set entirely now, and the blue veil of night draped across the sky star by star.

"I didn't want to stop," she began after a while, much quieter and softer than before. "We had finally been sent a target that had been so close to the Pazzis. Ezio had taken care of the actual family, but us two, we hadn't been able to fight them directly until now." Letting her head rest on the cold metal of her brother's armor, she fought the stinging in her eyes, the impulse to cry.

"I still remember his blood all over my hands, my shirt," Giuliana shivered slightly and raised her hands to her face, regarding them with a somber look.

"It was almost," she hesitated before continuing, "_calming_."

"Even though I know that feeling, it was still not right to go as far as you did."

"I thought I knew that, but then I couldn't quite _accept_," her voice trailed off before she could finish.

"I think," Amerigo began, but Giuliana wasn't listening anymore. She was to speaking, not to herself or to her brother, but to someone else, someone far away, in a low tone. What Amerigo could make of her whisper made him smile.

"_Spero che la lezione che ho imparato dalla tua morte è stato sufficiente per guadagnare sia il vostro e il mio pentimento.__Requiescat in pace."_


End file.
